George’s 35th Birthday
What is 20 gallons of water worth?
It looked like a little bit of paradise when we sailed our 44-foot cutter, Expectation, into the azul waters of Aqua Verde, a remote bay in the Sea of Cortez. And, better yet, what looked like a picturesque Mexican village was hugging the shore. We had no more than dropped our anchor when we were joined by friends sailing two other cruising boats.
Our passengers were Betty's son, George, and his then girlfriend Kristy Lee. And it was George's 35th birthday although we had not yet figured out how to celebrate the occasion. Seeing the village and hearing the sound of bleating goats gave me an inspiration.
"Let's see if we can't get the villagers to put on a goat roast."
Once I made sure our anchor was holding and everything was shipshape on Expectation, I launched our dinghy and headed for shore to see what kind of a deal I could make with the locals. Approaching shore, it quickly became apparent that what had appeared to be a very picturesque village was, in fact, a very poor one.
The natives that greeted me were very friendly, but before I could ask about the possibility of a goat roast, the woman that seemed to be in charge asked me if we would give them some water. Apparently, their water supply was brackish and fresh water was a valuable commodity. The problem was that fresh water was also a very valuable commodity on a cruising boat. Our tanks held a total of only 150 gallons, and we sometimes had to make that last for as long as a month. As a frame of reference, we would easily use more than that in a single day when we were ashore. Essentially, we used our freshwater only to drink. We washed our dishes in saltwater and had learned how to take a bath in only six glasses of water. We would dive in the ocean, come back on deck and wash ourselves with saltwater soap, then dive back in the water to rinse off. Back on deck we would get the salt off by rinsing in three cups of precious water.
Feeling sorry for the villagers, we did collect 20 gallons for the cause. A very reasonable price was agreed on for the goat roast and we were allowed to select two young goats for the sacrifice. The goats were hung upside down from a tree, their throats were slit, and the women collected every drop of blood in pans.
At the appointed time, our group was back on shore with beer and tequila to celebrate George's birthday. The local women served an incredible meal of homemade tortillas, beans and perfectly roasted goat on tin plates. We had brought plastic silverware from the boats. It was a wonderful birthday, and the meal would have been a tribute to any fine dining room. Our group staggered back to the boats by moonlight. We hoped it had been a memorable birthday for George.